Asbel, too, was well aware of Augustine's reputation, but as the priest bid him silent farewell and left the room, the phoenix felt his heart kick its way up into his throat. The eldest prince and the youngest were so different. Even after seventeen years of living with them, of growing up with them, Asbel couldn't quite believe how different the two were. Something had clearly happened to set Frey on the wrong track, but with the wreck of a conversation last night, Asbel was no closer to knowing what that was. He was afraid to find out: what if, for example, there was nothing that had turned Frey into a monster and the young man had simply been born sour? What then? There was no hope for someone like that, and if the kingdom ever fell to him, then... the gods help them.

But the phoenix shouldered his small shoulder-bag of possessions and, for one of the few times in his life, left his room. He knew approximately where the dining rooms were, and there had been no time for any of the servants to bring him breakfast, so he would have to improvise.

He pushed into the heat and bustle of the palace kitchens and sidled through crowds of servants in search of fresh fruit or vegetables or even bread, if they had nothing better. He found nothing, but after long, uncomfortable minutes trying to slip through the crowd without touching anyone, a hand grasped his arm and tugged him sideways, and Asbel found Augustine.

"Good morning." The eldest prince smiled in easy kindness, and Asbel (despite himself) flushed pink. Thankfully, Augustine did not seem to expect a response, and he dropped an apple into the phoenix's hands and, a hand still on his arm, guided his new travel companion out of the kitchen and into the castle proper and toward the gardens that would, presumably, lead to the dragon pens.

"I am glad I found you, Asbel. I didn't have time last night to arrange for travel rations, and I was worried you might not know where to find us this morning. Fortuitous that I bumped into you before you got lost. I am sorry you haven't had more time to eat this morning; if you are still hungry, I have some extra supplies packed. You will not go hungry today."

Gradually, the phoenix relaxed in the midst of the ice-breaking conversation, pleased that his attack of shyness was not as awkward as he had feared, and that Augustine's hand on him was so warm and light -- again, so unlike Frey's aggressive attacks.
---
Even after years of Frey's company, Cassius never knew quite what to do with the boy. Frey had such fierceness in him, but also such fear -- an Achilles's Heel that could drop him in a moment. Certainly that was what had happened last night, when he'd felt Frey's brief plummet into anxiety like a tickle on the back of his neck. Now, with the boy so near, the gathering panic caught in his own throat like an improperly-swallowed seed.

"Scared for what?" he asked softly, or as soft as he could manage with a voice that invariably rumbled like a minor earthquake. He folded himself across from the youngest prince, hands in his lap, leaning forward with unblinking brown eyes to return Frey's fixed gaze. What could the prince be afraid of, that his brother and brother's companion could not protect him from? And what could frighten the little demon, who fought so stubbornly and with such strength against the entire world? "This is a small errand, whatever the oracle has said. It will be a good trip."